Approaching a canal

Many thanks to my student Qing, who sent along an intriguing trio of photos of a painting she saw while she was traveling abroad. Before I comment on this set of photos myself, I'll share with you what fascinated Qing the most about this painting. She says,

The pictures attached in this email are different perspectives of a painting in the Winter Palace in Russia. If I look at this painting from the right side, it seems that the building on the right side of this painting takes up half of the area of this painting. However, if I look at this painting in the front, that building actually takes up less area, and if I go further left, the size of the building is even smaller.

Viewed from the right, the building looms large . . . 

From the middle, the building is less than half of the image.

And viewed from the left, the building seems smaller still.

What do I love about this trio of images?  Well, I have to admit that part of what I loved was recognizing the work of one of my favorite perspective artists, Canaletto, who got his name from the fact that he painted so many cityscapes in Venice, the place of many canals.  

I also loved the notion of viewing distance affecting the image we see, and having that notion come alive in an art gallery.  The fact that Canaletto was such a good artist -- and that his paintings (which he did using a camera obscura) were so realistic -- allow this kind of illusion to work well.  

But also, what I love about this set of pictures is how perspective art transcends time and space.  Here is a painting of the visit of a French Ambassador's visit, painted by an Italian artist, hanging in a Russian gallery, as photographed by a Chinese traveler who studies classical Greek, and emailed to her professor in the United States. 

In fact, if you look closely, you will see this coming-together-of-cultures if you look at a different part of the paintings.  If you travel (as Qing did) from right to left and look at the Ambassador's boat, it seems to start from afar and glide in closer and closer to the stairs where it will land.  I know that Canaletto didn't intend to make a movie with his painting, but good perspective images often come with unexpected happy coincidences like this.  Thank you, Qing!